


An Anniversary Celebrated

by goldbooksblack



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Anniversary, F/M, basically everyone wants to have a party, for what reason? I have no idea, i apologize for this travesty, look guys this is just bad smut disguised as real fluff, this was not edited or proofread at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 19:58:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12689199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldbooksblack/pseuds/goldbooksblack
Summary: "Aedion!" His cousin shrieked. "What in the name of Mala are you doing?" Aelin herself was frozen in an awkward pose, bent at the waist with a scattered bouquet of roses.Aedion stared down at himself. He was covered, from chest to ankles, with flour, dough, and some sort of strange yellow dye. "I . . . I have no idea."In which Aedion tries to do something nice to celebrate his relationship.(This fic is basically a mess so read at your own discretion)





	An Anniversary Celebrated

**Author's Note:**

> Look, guys, I'm going to be honest here. 
> 
> It's 3 AM. I'm on a caffeine high. And, as you can probably tell, I AM NOT AN EXPERIENCED SMUT WRITER. 
> 
> This was not proofread or edited at all (unless you count Grammarly as proofreading). 
> 
> I apologize for any permanent scarring this might cause you.

Aedion Ashryver was on the brink of a meltdown.

"Aedion!" His cousin shrieked. "What in the name of Mala are you doing?" Aelin herself was frozen in an awkward pose, bent at the waist with a scattered bouquet of roses.

Aedion stared down at himself. He was covered, from chest to ankles, with flour, dough, and some sort of strange yellow dye. "I . . . I have no idea."

The queen of Terrasen crossed her arms, scowling in a way that would have made her mate very, very proud. "Well, you better get your shit together or I'm not sure Lysandra will even want to remain married to you."

"Yeah, boyo, get your shit together," echoed Fenrys, who was sitting on a nearby counter licking batter off of a spoon.

"Last time I checked," said Aedion irritably, rounding on the golden-haired male. "You're not the one married to her!"

Fenrys pointed the now-clean spoon at him. "Maybe, maybe. But as you all know, Asterin and I are essentially the paragon of love at its finest."

"Which reminds me," Aelin snapped suddenly. "Can you two keep it the fuck down? Some people try to sleep at night, you know, and no one wants to hear your excessive fuck noises."

"It's called love, your majesty."

Aedion untied his apron and threw it at Fenrys. He caught it easily. "I hate you both."

"Look," said Aelin, who had apparently gone into full-on pep talk mode. "No matter what you do here, Lysandra will still love you. Sure, you might screw everything up and ruin the state of your marriage, but still!"

"Again, I hate both of you."

Aelin ignored him that time. "We've got the cake, the booze, the tables set up . . . what else?"

"The flowers," said her cousin gloomily. "Which are, apparently, only available in Adarlan."

"Ask Dorian," Aelin and Fenrys said in unison.

"I did! But he's a little busy, quote 'rebuilding my still-destroyed country' to help."

"Bullshit." Aelin shook her head. "Remind me to talk to Manon about this."

"I don't know why some people think that it's us males that have dominated the females," mused Fenrys. "One call to Manon, and Dorian's sitting at her feet with his tail between his legs."

"That's not the only thing that's changing between his legs," grumbled Aedion.

Before Aelin could respond with a witty remark of her own, one of the aforementioned males swept in through the door. The sight was laughable; Rowan Whitethorn, the strongest Fae male of the millennium, had his arms not full of weapons, but of flowers. Dozens of them, varying in shapes and sizes.

Aelin smirked at him. "Well, aren't you the big fearsome warrior today? Nothing to be afraid of you today, it seems."

He smirked right back. "Let's test that later, shall we?"

Aedion and Fenrys let out twin groans of pure disgust.

Rowan seemed to snap out of his revery, because he turned to Aedion. "Evangeline suggested these flowers in place of the Adarlanian ones." Somehow bundling all of the stems together, Rowan handed the messy bouquet to Aedion.

"Alright, fine," exhaled Aedion. "As long as they look nice."

~*~

"As long as they look nice" was a bad choice, Aedion lamented an hour later, as he looked out at the lawns and garden behind the castle. Yes, the cake was nice. Yes, the tables were nice. Yes, even the flowers were nice. But somehow . . . none of it meshed together. None of it was representative of the woman that Aedion loved. None of it was what she deserved.

"Hey," Aelin came up beside him. "She's going to love it."

"No," moaned Aedion. "No."  
  
Aelin snuck a quick peek behind her. "Well, too late, because here she is!"

Aedion whirled around and almost laughed, in spite of himself. Gavriel and Lorcan (who had been clearly coerced into it by Elide) were guiding a blindfolded Lysandra to stand in front of the whole garden ensemble.

As they moved closer, Aedion caught his father's eye. Gavriel offered him a soft smile.

"What am I doing?" Lysandra asked, arms held out straight in front of her. "What—"

"Okay," squealed Aelin, who had positioned herself right in front of the shapeshifter's face. Lysandra yelped. "Take your blindfold off!"

Fumbling with the knot at the back, Lysandra finally untied the cloth, blinking rapidly at the brightness. Aedion held his breath as she looked around—and then right at him.

Lysandra laughed, and Aedion felt his insides completely melt as she ran to him, throwing her arms around him. "Happy anniversary," he murmured as she buried her face in his shoulder. Grabbing his face, she planted a kiss on his lips.

"Ahem, lovebirds," Fenrys loudly cleared his throat, and Aedion could have sworn that he saw Asterin punch him in the shoulder, scoldingly. "There'll be more time for the smooching later. But right now, this cake is getting cold."

"The cake isn't from that bakery you liked because the baker's sick and it's closed and I couldn't find your favorite flowers from Adarlan and Dorian wasn't responding to my messages and neither was Chaoland—" Aedion babbled on, before Lysandra kissed him again, effectively shutting him up.

"I love it," she whispered softly. Her emerald gaze was soft. Steady. "I love you."

Aedion closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers and smiling for the first time that day. "I love you too, Lysandra Ashryver."

~*~

The couple stumbled into their bedroom, barely tipsy but drunk on something different altogether.

The day had gone . . . well, perfectly. Yes, Fleetfoot had knocked over a table. Yes, Lorcan had scowled the whole time. Yes, Fenrys had eaten about half of the cake by himself. But on the whole . . . a marvelous night.

"Aedion Ashryver," purred Lysandra, her lips positioned close beside his ear. "Would you like to show your wife just how much you love her?"

Aedion smirked. "You were thinking of me all day, weren't you?"

In response, Lysandra merely grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him closer so that she could press her lips to his in a burning kiss. Her arms twined around Aedion's neck as he fumbled with the clasps and knots of her dress. Letting out a low groan as it finally slipped off of her shoulders, he hoisted her up. Lysandra gave a responding moan, wrapping her legs around him as he pushed the two of them to the wall. Aedion kissed his way down her neck, sucking and biting—encouraged by Lysandra as she tugged at his hair. He came up to capture her lips again, before moving them, finally, to the bed.

Lysandra gave a low growl at the lack of contact as she was placed gently down on the bed. Aedion, still standing, surveyed her as he removed his own clothing. She kept her gaze on him, carefully observing his every move. Assessing what he was going to do next.

In response, Aedion spread her legs apart, tucking his fingers underneath her underwear, slowly pulling it down. He gazed at her, memorizing each detail of her beautiful face before he buried his own in her sex. Lysandra gave a low gasp as he tasted her, and rose off of the bed as he began to move against her. "Aedion, I—Aedion, oh—" she arched up completely so that she was sitting, legs bent, Aedion's head clutched close to her, fingers tangled in his hair. For good measure, he managed to reach up and undo the fabric binding her breasts, letting them fall free.

Lysandra gave a loud moan as Aedion, not taking his lips off of her, gently pushed a finger into her. And then two. Soon enough, she was screaming, hands pushing Aedion closer to her, caught in the throes of climax.

Her climax had barely subsided before Aedion found himself being pushed onto his back, with Lysandra hovering above him. "Now it's my turn," she purred, keeping her hands pressing down on him as he protested. Leaning down to kiss him, she made her way down his chest with her lips, until she got to exactly where he had been on her body.

Aedion could only watch with wide eyes as she wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock—and took the rest of it in her mouth. He groaned, feeling her warmth envelop the head, combined with the strokes of her fingers. "Lysandra. Oh, Lys—"

Reaching with her other hand, she massaged his balls, and Aedion thanked the gods with every breath that fate had, somehow, led him to this beautiful, beautiful woman.

Feeling himself nearing the precipice, Aedion pushed himself back from Lysandra and flipped them once more. They moaned, together, as Aedion pushed into Lysandra, and they felt themselves join together. Then, with a roll of her hips, he began to thrust harder. Trying to keep himself contained, Aedion reached down right where he was thrusting, searching. Lysandra screamed as his thumb made circles around the nerves gathered above her sex.

He found himself being dragged down, Lysandra's arms twined around his neck yet again, pressing him into her neck. His name cascaded from her lips, again and again, until he felt her scream once more, "Aedion!" Digging her nails into his back, she arched off of the bed, letting out a loud cry as she climaxed.

Aedion slammed into her, a little rougher now, and it only took a few more thrusts before he too, had found release—roaring her name all throughout his ecstasy.

Remaining in their position for a few, glorious moments, Aedion finally rolled off of her, and laid next to her. Lysandra tucked her arms around him, and he relished in the smell of her—her own scent, combined with his. He held her closer.

She lifted her head from his chest, emerald matching turquoise-gold, and smiled devilishly. "Well, husband?" She queried sweetly, dragging a finger down the panes of his torso. "We can sleep, or we can . . . "

He growled, and her eyes lit up with satisfied delight. "Say no more—" he leaned in, close, until his lips were level with the shell of her ear. "—wife."

~*~

The next morning, Fenrys didn't stop bitching about the "tortured screaming" that haunted his chambers until Lysandra shifted into a ghost leopard and nearly bit his foot off.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry if you never want to have sex (again).


End file.
